


Trust written in Candlewax

by arthur_177



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Blindfolds, Candles, Light BDSM, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/488922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_177/pseuds/arthur_177
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trust is expressed in a variety of ways. Sometimes by means of not looking at need-to-know reports; sometimes by means of blindfolds and candlewax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust written in Candlewax

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an Avengers Kinkmeme prompt about Clint/Natasha and Candles. This is more about the trust inherent in a sort of casual BDSM play scene rather than a relationship, so I've tagged it as 'other' rather than F/M (because in my headcanon, they are friends, sometimes with benefits, but always friends and work partners, not a couple, and this is part of what defines them). 
> 
> It's my first attempt at a kinkmeme fill, so naturally, it's mostly gen, with one paragraph of rather graphic waxplay. Time-wise it sort of works as post-movie because Bruce, Tony and Pepper are mentioned as part of the team, but Phil is alive and well.

Like most abstract concepts, trust is a diffuse entity. It means different things for different people. For example, for Bruce, it is knowing that no matter how much Tony will try to get a reaction out of him, he will never push it too far, because Tony may consider pushing things until they break part of his job description, but he would never take it so far as to break Bruce in the process. Tony Stark knows a lot about nightmares.

Clint knows that he will never learn all of it, but he can take an educated guess that for Coulson, it is knowing that Clint will only disobey orders and chat away on the comms if it holds absolutely no danger for the mission, or anyone involved, or probably even Coulson's blood pressure. Trust means that on some days Coulson doesn't look up from what he is working on but says 'this report is need to know, Barton' to the seemingly empty office. He never checks whether Clint leaves the vents, or whether he just sits there and observes the way Coulson tilts his head when he concentrates and grips his pen a little tighter when he writes something that is too polite for how he feels about the matter. Clint wouldn't dream of reading anything from those reports, and he wouldn't dream of telling Coulson how much this trust means to him. He reckons Coulson knows. It's Coulson's job to know things about Clint.

But there are things about Clint that are strictly need to know, and as much as he's entertained the thought to let Coulson in on some of them in private, most of those are between him and Tasha. Trust means that they both know they can let their masks slip momentarily around each other, that they can reveal themselves to each other, that they let the other one see and know the willingness is mutual. For Tasha it means that she can strip off some of her weapons and leave others, knowing that she won't need them but that Clint knows why she needs them. It means that she can slap him for his comment that the knife in the garter is kinky, and that he'll know it for the expression of fond exasperation that it is.

For Clint, who is an all too human marksman in a group of gods and superheroes and who has nothing but his good eyesight (and years of training), it means that he'll let her blindfold him. And thus, some days, when they need to wind down after a mission, or do something that feels more normal, more like them after a day of too many too boring meetings, there will be no words, but Clint will take off his shirt and throw it in a corner, and Tasha will line up and light thin candles on the bedside table in whichever colours reflect her mood. Clint will lie down on the bed, arms above his head, wrists crossed, hands lightly holding onto the bars of the headboard, and Tasha will produce a tie, or a scarf, or whatever piece of clothing she deems sufficient for the enterprise, and blindfold him. For others, trust may be about having your hands bound, about the knowledge that one can be helpless around another. For them, who can get out of most bonds and cuffs in less than a minute if they elect to, trust is about giving a way a piece of your fears and knowing the other won't abuse that knowledge. Clint trusts Tasha, and so Clint allows himself to be blind around her (and because Tasha trusts Clint, she knows that he lets her in on this because it is safe, because it will keep the nightmares at bay and not add to them, and that they'll be good in the morning, and in days to come).

When you grow up in a world where people handle knives, lions and tightropes for a living, nobody believes in keeping fire and scissors away from children. Rather, people believe in handing a kid a box of matches and teaching it how to not set things on fire accidentally. Clint has loved candles ever since then – as a child, because it meant that he was trusted with something dangerous and had something dangerous he could control, and as an adult because there is something about fire that gets to him, something between comfort and facing your fears of allowing other to get hurt, and being too romantic, and being hurt. He reckons he likes wax because in a life where having pain inflicted on him in one way or another is part of the job description, the soft burn of hot wax on his skin is a reminder that he chose this, that he can deal with pain, that he can close his eyes and lie back sometimes, because there are people who have his back. Tasha's got him, in the field, and now. He smiles as he imagines her, tilting her head as she tilts the candle, drawing patterns, painting coloured wax on the canvas of scarred skin, observing how and when he hisses, when his breathing quickens, how his muscles move and his skin responds to the droplets. He is caught up in perception that gets hazy at the edges – his field senses tell him when she moves to reach out to get another candle, whether the soft sound is a candle being lifted or set back, where he is being held down, where his openings are, but he focusses on the other things – the heat, the pain, the cold air on his skin, the metal of the headboard between his fingers and the silk of the tie on his face, his heartbeat and breathing, the smell of scented candles, Tasha's perfume, his aftershave, their sweat, the overwhelming feeling of content, safety and trust.

Afterwards, they will lie there for a while. Clint will take off the blindfold, clenching his fingers around the fabric, reasserting power over his sight in an all-too-symbolic way (he's an agent, he can observe himself as well as others. That doesn't mean that the ritual isn't reassuring even if he knows what he's doing). Tasha will look at the candles, watch them burn down, entangle her fingers in his if it was a bad mission. They'll lie there until the candles extinguish themselves, until the wax on his chest and arms is cold and solid and his skin has stopped tingling. Then the moment will be broken, and Tasha will get up to shower, and Clint will peel off bits of wax off himself and eye the bedsheets critically (Clint trusts Pepper, because they once got a little bit drunk after Tony had done something stupid and Clint had done something stupid and they both needed it, and because of the peculiar ways conversations in such a situation go Pepper is the only person who knows that Clint knows how to get wax stains out of fabric with an iron and a paper towel, and because it has stayed that way, Clint trusts Pepper). He'll kiss her goodbye and she'll punch him because he tried to get wax all over her freshly showered self, and in the morning, there will be no sign of candles or wax or all that transpired the previous night. Clint will suit up, drop off coffee and a muffin in Coulson's office and not look at the files if they are need to know, Tony will needle Bruce for a reaction, and Tasha will allow him a sliver of a smile, and vice versa, while they spar. There will be no tell-tale marks on Clint's arms (he's not an amateur, he knows how to play safe-for-work), and Tasha and him will not share a meaningful look over the candles on the ridiculously over-the-top birthday cake Tony got for Pepper.

What there will be, always, is the trust between them.


End file.
